


Don't Sleep to Dream

by chronicopheliac



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Will, Blow Jobs, BottomHannibalDay, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Post-Season/Series 03, Sleep Sex, Somnophilia, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 03:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11751204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicopheliac/pseuds/chronicopheliac
Summary: Still recovering from their Fall, Will is dealing with some unresolved issues. All of them to do with Hannibal. Angry and disappointed, he chooses to deal with his issues while Hannibal is sleeping.





	Don't Sleep to Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you ever-so much to [Devereauxs_Disease](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease) for putting up with me, as always. <3 And [Popsicle_stick](http://archiveofourown.org/users/popsicle_stick) for the last minute beta! Y'all are fabulous! <3
> 
> ALSO! Please do mind the archive warning. While it could be argued that this is perhaps closer to dub-con, and I think most would agree that Hannibal wouldn't even mind, this all does begin in a non-consensual way. So. Yeah. >_> Sorry.

Everything hurt. Trying to sit up in bed was agony. It was difficult to imagine an end to the pain.

Will swung his legs over the bed and grunted at a pang in his shoulder. His grimace sent a fresh spike of pain to his cheek. It wasn't as bad as it had been a few weeks ago. But between the number of injuries, and moving from place to place, healing was slow. 

It was all Hannibal's fault. There wouldn't be any pain if Will had just been allowed to die like he wanted to. It was supposed to be done.

He shuffled across the room, out the door and across the narrow hallway. To Hannibal's room. And there the bastard lay. He looked so small and human with his bandages and bruises. It was infuriating.

At first, Will just hovered by the bed. Staring daggers. But he couldn’t stand for very long. The ache became too much. He sat at the foot of the bed and contemplated why he was even there. Why he didn’t just… kill Hannibal now, and then himself. No one was there to stop him. No one would know the difference. 

He reached out with a shaky hand, but it fell short by Hannibal’s thigh, on the comforter. He couldn’t even bring himself to touch him. 

Hannibal’s breathing was steady. Stronger than it had been, which was… good, probably. It meant he was getting better. Not enough that he didn’t need painkillers to stay asleep, though. Will glanced at the bedside table. It was covered in pill bottles. Maybe if he crushed them up and dissolved them in water…

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Anger flared in Will’s gut. God, how he wished he could hate Hannibal. It would be so much easier, if he could just. Lean in and wrap his hands around Hannibal’s throat. Press down, down. Harder. Watch his face turn red, then purple, then blue. See the shock and hurt in his eyes as the life seeped out of him, too weak to struggle.

He dipped his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. Pressed his open palm against heated flesh. He gritted his teeth to keep himself from making a sound. Hannibal slept heavier these days, but not quite like the dead. Not today.

It was over in seconds. Too fast. Too wrong. Will was humiliated. He hobbled out of the room as quickly as he could, and back to his own, where he hid all of the following day, and part of the next. Certain Hannibal would smell him.

 

* * *

 

If Hannibal had smelled anything, he never acknowledged it. When Will finally came out of his room for dinner, it passed in the usual awkward silence. Apparently, Hannibal didn’t appreciate being thrown off cliffs. Will reminded him he didn’t appreciate his family being used in Hannibal’s childish games, which earned a petulant look and the silent treatment. Will reminded himself that silence was better than many of the alternatives.

 

* * *

 

Will couldn’t sleep. Nothing new, but it was never any less frustrating. Not being able to turn after he tossed. Haunted by all the horrible things he’d done. And unable to forget.

He didn’t look at the clock when he slid out of bed. He didn’t think about where he was going, as he crept across the hall to Hannibal’s room. He was propelled only by a twisted blend of anger and shame.

It wasn’t fair that Hannibal slept so easy. He seemed so much younger in sleep. All the lines in his face were relaxed, his jaw slack. Lips parted. Will imagined what it would be like to push his fingers past those lips. To curl his fingers beneath that tongue, and pry his mouth open wide. So wide, until Hannibal’s face split, and his jaw came away in Will’s hand.

Before Will knew it, he was kneeling on the mattress beside Hannibal’s head. He pushed his boxers down around his thighs, and braced himself on the headboard with one hand. He had no idea how long he’d been hard, but Christ, it was almost painful now. 

Precome dribbled down over Will’s fingers. He bit his lip, and closed his eyes. How would Hannibal’s lips look, glistening so obscenely?

Gripping himself tight, he leaned in to swipe the head of his cock over Hannibal’s mouth. He pushed past Hannibal's lips just enough to feel teeth, and groaned.

_ Fuck. _

He froze. Hannibal shifted in his sleep, and his mouth parted wider. Hot breath sent shivers down Will’s spine. He made to pull back, but then Hannibal settled again. Still asleep.

He pushed in further. Fascinated by the way Hannibal’s jaw opened so easily. The way his lips stretched. A thin line of drool trickled down Hannibal’s chin. Not very dignified. A thread of satisfaction pulled at Will’s lips. 

Will pulled out, and finished himself off. He grabbed a tissue and carefully wiped up the drool. Wouldn’t want to be discourteous.

 

* * *

 

This time, Will didn’t hide. Humiliation roiled in his gut, but he knew there was no point in pretending. Hannibal probably still tasted him on his lips. 

No questions came. Hannibal said nothing about it the entire day. Once, Will thought he caught a smug look on Hannibal’s face. Sometime after lunch. But it was there and gone again. So fast Will couldn’t be sure he hadn’t imagined it.

After dinner, Hannibal announced he was going to bed early. He complained of aches and pains, and told Will he would be taking some stronger painkillers that night. It would be up to Will to listen for intruders, and keep them safe. 

Will considered taking painkillers too. Enough to dull the pain for good. Let Hannibal protect his own goddamn self. But somehow, the idea didn’t hold much appeal, anymore. Not when he knew Hannibal would be well and truly out for the night. It put too many distracting thoughts in his head.

But he wouldn’t go back there, again. It was too risky. Too awful. He was better off indulging in fantasies, in his own room. Alone.

 

* * *

 

An hour after Hannibal had gone to bed, Will sat in his room, tormenting himself. Jacking off on his own was no good - he couldn’t stay hard. He tried redirecting his thoughts. Molly. Alana. All the things Hannibal had done to fuck up his life. That only made it worse. The rage fueled his desire.

Soon, Will was making his way across the hall again, hovering at the doorway. It looked like Hannibal had barely made it to bed. His limbs were splayed as though he’d collapsed onto the mattress. He wasn’t even under the covers.

Will knew Hannibal wore only pajama bottoms to bed. Hell, neither of them had worn much more than that for weeks. But seeing him lying there, so prone and unaware… It sent heat straight to Will’s dick.

Knowing Hannibal was heavily drugged made Will bolder. He sat at the the edge of the bed and snapped his fingers by Hannibal’s ear. No reaction. He rested his hand at the base of Hannibal’s throat. The steady rise and fall of Hannibal’s chest made him want to push down and break his collarbone.

His hand slid down the centre of Hannibal’s chest, to his belly. Just a little bit to the left, and he could push on the bullet wound. Maybe burst the stitches. Tear it open a little wider.

He moved lower, pushing at Hannibal’s pajama pants until the elastic stretched and caught beneath Hannibal’s testicles. They brushed the back of Will’s hand and he jerked his hand back with a gasp.

Still nothing.

Hannibal’s cock was thick, but not very long. Uncircumcised. Will assumed it was a grower. A neatly trimmed thatch of hair surrounded the base, connecting up to the hair on Hannibal’s belly. His balls hung heavy, one lower than the other, nestled between his thighs. Will reached out and ran a fingertip along the curve of the lower one. He pulled his hand back again.

This was a terrible idea. He was a terrible, horrible, awful man, and this was the worst thing he’d ever done. Well. One of the worst things. He pulled at his hair and scrubbed a hand over his face.

Leaving now would be best. Before he went any further, or made things worse. 

When Will reached for Hannibal again, it was to pull the waistband back up, but instead he leaned in and pressed his nose against the base of Hannibal’s cock. Musky, but clean. Then, before he could stop himself, he took Hannibal’s cock in his mouth.

It wasn’t difficult to take it down to the root. It tasted like soap and salt and sweat. He pulled off to draw back the foreskin, and flicked out his tongue to taste. There was a headier flavour, more intense.

To Will's surprise, Hannibal's cock twitched and filled. He grabbed it at the base and gave a few strokes, then took it into his mouth again. Not so easy to take it all, this time. Wet, slurping sounds filled the room. It seemed so loud. 

Will looked up. Hannibal's sleeping face was so peaceful. Almost innocent. One would never guess how much of a fucking asshole he was. 

He pulled back, and carefully swung a leg over to straddle Hannibal's thighs - not too much weight, just in case. He shimmied up until he could grab both their cocks and stroke them together. 

Oh, god. The slide of skin on skin was exhilarating. He watched with fascination, their cocks slotted together. Same but different. The head of Hannibal’s cock was a bit darker, but it flared less. There was a vein, right there, that bulged a little. The foreskin wrinkled and covered the head on the upstroke.

More. Will needed more. 

Slowly, Will shifted up higher, until he straddled Hannibal’s chest. Fingers curled firm around himself, he pressed the head against Hannibal’s lips, just as he had the night before. He pressed deeper. Hannibal’s mouth opened, and accepted him inside.

Will muffled a moan against his arm. Velvet, wet heat surrounded him. It was… incredible. Hannibal’s mouth was so slack. Pliant. No protest. No psychoanalyzing bullshit. No smug twinkle in closed eyes. He pushed in until he felt the back of Hannibal’s throat, then pulled out again. 

He dared to whisper, “F-fuck. Prettier when you’re quiet.”

He took what he wanted. Fucked Hannibal’s mouth until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He pulled out at the last second, and came all over Hannibal’s face and chest. It was beautiful. 

Part of him wanted to leave it there. To let it dry and crust and leave his mark. It would be uncomfortable to wake up to. Alarming, possibly. But Will couldn’t do it. That was too close to admitting what he’d done. Like saying it out loud. Worse.

He cleaned Hannibal up with some tissue and made a hasty retreat back to his bedroom. As he fell asleep, he tried to come up with a way to never leave his room again.

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, Will’s plans were dashed by Hannibal. It turned out Hannibal had realized what Will was doing. Will didn’t know why he was shocked.

There was an awkward conversation. A long, humiliating, awkward conversation. And then some negotiation. It didn’t diminish Will’s desire to punch Hannibal in the face much, but… Later that night, they agreed to try and work it out.

 

* * *

 

  
Hannibal moaned.

“H-Hannibal. C-could you…?”

“Apologies, Will. It felt very good.”

Will pressed a finger inside, turning it this way and that to explore. “Yeah well. Shut the fuck up.”

“Shall I go limp?”   


That earned a slap to the ass. “Hannibal.”

“Is that a yes?”

“...”

Hannibal relaxed, and turned his face into his pillow. An urge to hit him possessed Will, but he managed to fight it. Barely.

Instead, he added another finger, and teased. By the way Hannibal’s head tilted, Will could tell he was biting into his pillow.  _ Take that. _

There was some tension in Hannibal’s hips. Will eased up with his fingers, tormenting Hannibal with light touches at the rim. Hannibal shot back a glare. Will grinned.

“You’re supposed to be asleep.”

“Forgive me if I want to actually feel our first time.” Sarcasm dripped from Hannibal’s words.

“Fucking sap.”

“Can we please move this along, Will?”

Another slap. This time, Hannibal grinned.

Will sighed, and lined himself up. He barely had a chance to start pushing inside before Hannibal pushed back, and  _ oh _ . There it was.

They both gasped, and stilled.

“My de-- ah…! Dear Will. Did I not tell you to get on wi--”

_ Slap! _ “Sleeping people don’t give attitude.” But Will rolled his hips. “O-oh… f-fuck.”

Hannibal opened his mouth to speak, but remembered himself. He turned his face back to the pillow.

Will gave a few more rolls of his hips. To get a feel for it. Different angles, repositioning his legs. Hannibal’s jaw clenched. He was about to crack, to tell Will to seriously, please, get on with it. But then, at last, Will moved.

And really, this wasn’t about Hannibal. It was for Will. He was merely there to fulfill a need. To help Will… deal with his anger. Or so Will claimed. Hannibal suspected there wasn’t much anger left, anymore. However, pointing it out might fill that meter again. Hannibal kept his suspicions to himself.

“F-fuck, H-Hann…” Hips snapping forward, Will’s fingers curled into Hannibal’s hair. He tugged. Hard. Hannibal bit his lip, head jerked back, but he made no sound. He forced his body slack.

Will came with a shout. He fucked Hannibal until he collapsed over him, exhausted.

Neither spoke for several minutes. When Will caught his breath, he slid out of Hannibal and rolled to his side. He stared at the back of Hannibal’s head.

“Was that good, Will?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Which was to say, yes.  _ Very _ . Will snuggled up against him and hid his smile against Hannibal’s shoulder. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

“Already? You have an impressive refractory period.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“But you said--” Hannibal was interrupted by Will’s lips. He melted into it, as Will pulled at him so he would roll onto his back. “Ah. Never mind.”

‘S’what I thought. Now shut up.”

Hannibal leaned up for another kiss, lips twisted into a smirk. “Mmhm.”

**Author's Note:**

> I also sometimes putz around on [Tumblr!](http://chronicopheliac.tumblr.com)


End file.
